It's a moon, not a planet
by ProfessorScience
Summary: Post-Avatar: So, what happened after the RDA left?
1. Get Your Kicks

_**December 25th, 2190.**_

River 66, the longest river on Pandora. It stretched from a massive basin in the jungles and emptied out in one of the great seas of the moon, creating a highway used by humans and Na'vi alike. Currently, there was a human stuck right in the middle of it, calmly contemplating his current predicament.

"Piece of sh-!" he screamed as he kicked his beached hovercraft, only accomplishing smashing his foot. It had started smoking as he cruised over the waters of the massive river, and he had no choice to bank it or risk sinking. He hopped on one foot for a while, clutching his other in pain, and the sat down to the broken Gator, thinking of what he could do.

His ride had chosen to break down and the worst possible time: not only was he thirty miles from the next outpost, but it was Christmas Day. The PMC had told the security department to deliver a package, and his entire squad drew straws to see who'd have to go. Guess who came up short.

_RRRrrrrrr..._

Private Bailey shot up at the noise, expecting to get pounced by a Thanator or a pack of viperwolves. He drew out a combat knife and entered a defensive stance. Not that that would help him much if it was a Thanator.

_RrrrrrrRRRrrrr..._

Bailey looked down and the smacked himself in the head for his own stupidity. It was his stomach, and he'd been on the river for hours without something to eat. He looked around for any movement in the forest, and decided it was safe enough to go looking for some fruit to chew on. He didn't have to wander far to see several small apple-looking fruits hanging on a low tree. At least, low by Pandora standards. They were still much too high for the human to reach, and after several failed attempts to knock one loose with a rock, he withdrew his pistol and aimed carefully.

_Blam!_

Probably not the best of ideas, but he did manage to shoot one of the stems, severing the fruit from the tree and sending it to the ground, which Bailey caught before it could splatter all over the forest floor.

"Merry Christmas to me." he muttered as he dug into the juicy plant. Sort of.

Completely forgetting about his exopack, the large fruit smushed into the plastic surface of his mask, leaving a purple-ish smear. He sighed and sat down, laying his pistol beside him. He then began to tear off little pieces of the fruit, and would lift his mask just enough to get a piece in his mouth, and would then push it back down. The grunts would do it all the time back at the base when they were too lazy to go inside to eat, but they'd usually get yelled at by an officer if caught.

After he finished, he lifted the mask one last time, wiped his mouth off and headed back to his beached Gator, now able to think on a full stomach. He didn't know how to repair the damn thing, but he did have a flare gun in the back, and maybe he could signal for help. The private would probably get chewed out for the trouble of getting rescued, but it beat eaten by some of the wildlife.

As we walked back to the clearing where his hovercraft was beached, it took him a second to notice that he had visitors: two young Na'vi hunters, curiously poking through the the contents of the human boat.

"Hey!" he yelled, waving his arms. "Get away from there!"

The two aliens turned their heads to look at the human soldier, and then to each other. They stopped rummaging through the boat as Bailey walked up to it, making way for the human. As he looked through the boat to see if they had taken anything, he turned to the taller of the two hunters.

"Listen, I know you can't understand me, but I got a long ways to go, and I don't want any more trouble." he said half-heartedly. If the hunters were going to kill him, they already would have, and that was almost unheard of nowadays. Every since the PMC arrived, they spent years trying to make the natives not hate their guts. Humans were back on speaking terms, or at least to the point where the Na'vi wouldn't shoot humans on sight. The hunters continued to stare at the soldier as he opened up the diagnostics panel, and tried to troubleshoot the broken craft.

After a few minutes of the soldier staring at the screen and cursing out loud every time the software crashed, the two hunters walked back off into the forest, leaving the human to his fate. He eventually closed the panel, giving up. He turned around to see the Na'vi had left, bored with watching the ill-tempered human fiddle with his machine. His attention then turned to the package he had to deliver: a metal box, with the PMC's logo on it.

"What's in that thing anyway?" he asked, jumping inside the hovercraft and into the backseat. He'd been told that the package couldn't be late, but they never told him he couldn't take a peek as to what was _inside._ Just as he was about to lift the metal lid of the container, he heard a distant roar in the jungle behind him. We he'd arrived at Pandora, his chief security officer played a clip of that roar over and over to drill it into his head what it was.

A Thanator, and that cry was one it made it had found something to eat.

He scrambled to unfasten his pistol from his holster, and then realized that he had left it at the fruit tree when he shot down the Orangegrape. He jumped out of the craft and ran towards the tree, hoping to get his sidearm in time. The Thanator probably wasn't gunning for him, but he wasn't about to go down without a fight if it had.

He found his revolver sitting on the ground where he had dropped it after his picnic, and picked it up, checking the ammo. He loaded a bullet in place of the one had had shot, and ran back to the hovercraft. Using the flare gun was almost out of the question now, as it would probably attract the attention of the apex predator. He came up to the beach and jumped into the Gator, laying himself flat along the front seats.

Bailey stayed like that for hours. He finally decided the Thanator hadn't targeted him for a meal, and climbed back out of the Gator, shaken.

"Worst Christmas Ever." he said he he walked over to the back of the Gator to fetch the flare gun. He opened the emergency supplies box, and the large red pistol was sitting in a plastic holster on the side. Bailey took it out and pointed it into the air, then pulled the trigger.

_Click._

"Oh, you have got to be shitting me."

He opened the pistol, and sure enough, there was no ammo for it. He looked around in the supplies box, and there was no spare munitions to be found. Letting out a defeated sigh, he threw the flare gun into the river. If he didn't make it by the end of the day, he'd probably start to be missed. All he had to do was wait until somebody came looking for him. Not only that, but River 66 had a fair bit of human traffic, and somebody eventually pass the broken-down Gator. He got back inside the craft and laid down.

The soldier nodded off. He didn't get nearly enough sleep as is, and some much-needed rest was the only silver lining of his situation. He woke up to see a giant standing over him. Bailey let out a panicked yelp, and scrambled over to the other side of the Gator, fumbling for his sidearm. As he laid his hand his weapon, he noticed this Na'vi was different. The alien had eyebrows, something the Na'vi lacked, and he looked much more muscular than the skinny aliens that inhabited Pandora. The alien raised a hand, and Bill could see he had five fingers, not four. It was an avatar!

"Nice to meet you too." the avatar said, eyebrow arched. Bill took a hand off his sidearm, and scooted back to the other end of the Gator, extending a hand.

"Sorry about that. I'm, uh, Private James Bailey."

The avatar smiled, and shook Bailey's hand.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Dr. Wes. My friends told me you looked like you were having problems with your machine."

"Yeah...my Gator died. I have no idea how to fix it."

"Neither do I."

"Oh, great."

"But! There is a Samson pilot parked near my linkup station, and she could take you back to base!"

Bailey turned to the back of the Gator, and shook his head.

"Sorry," he said, "but I have a package to deliver. Today."

Dr. Wes walked to the end of the Gator, and before Bailey could protest, opened the metal box in the back enough to get a peek. He smiled and closed it.

"Private Bailey, you're in luck. This package is meant for me."

"W-what?"

"Ayup. C'mon, I'll explain on the way back."

Dr. Wes whistled, and a direhorse came into the clearing. He patted it on the head, and with the box under one arm, jumped onto the massive animal.

"You can sit in the back."

Private Bailey really didn't have a choice in the matter. We walked over to the direhorse, and Dr. Wes used one if his long arms to pull him up, and onto the back of the animal. Bailey saw Dr. Wes connect his hair with the direhorse's antennae and Dr. Wes said something in Na'vi to command the creature to walk.

They didn't arrive at the linkup station. Private Bailey noticed this as they passed by the lab situated on a cliff, and turned toward the avatar.

"Uh, we missed that station."

"I know."

Bailey looked ahead to see their destination: a Hometree. He didn't say anything, but he wondered why the doctor was taking him there.

As they came into the vicinity of the massive tree, several of the natives in the area shot Bailey a strange look. Dr. Wes gave another command, and the direhorse stopped so suddenly it almost threw Bill off. As the doctor got off the animal, box in tow, he turned to the soldier.

"Tell me, Private Bailey, do you still believe in Santa Claus?"

* * *

Bailey was Santa Claus. More specifically, the package that Dr. Wes had requested was filled with toys, and was going to give them to the Na'vi children of the clan he had been accepted into. But, seeing the trouble Bailey went through to deliver the package, he decided that the honor of gift-giver better went to the soldier.

The private had never really cared one way or the other about the natives. Most of his job detailed patrolling the fences and occasionally doing errands for some the science team, but he had never actually interacted with the Na'vi on any level, but here he was, passing out gifts to alien children from the large metal box he had sitting next to him.

After he had passed out a toy to each of the children, Dr. Wes walked up to him, observing the children running around, playing with their new gifts.

"You make a good Santa." Wes remarked.

"Yeah, can I go home now?" the private replied as he stood up.

"Before you do, I think it's time for your Christmas present, for being such a jolly old soul." the doctor said, digging into one of his pockets and pulling out an intricate necklace, crafted from various beads and threads. He handed to Bailey, who simply held the thing out in front of him, not sure what to make of the present.

"Uh, thanks."

* * *

Dr. Wes returned him back to the linkup station shortly after that, the Samson delivering him back to base. The local security chief asked him where the hell he had been, and Bailey explained that he managed to deliver the package to Dr. Wes personally, and that there was a Gator out in the woods that needed fixing. His superior simply huffed and told him to check a vehicle before using it next time, letting him off easy.

Every year after that, Dr. Wes would personally come to Bailey's outpost and ask him to play the part of Santa Claus. The private eventually started to like the role, and even started making dolls in his spare time with help from Dr. Wes. Each year, Wes would also give him a necklace, which the soldier added to his collection.

After his tour ended on Pandora, he returned home to Earth, and donated the necklaces to a museum. They were estimated to be worth over twenty million dollars.


	2. New Guy

_**August 2nd, 2184**_

Dr. Maxwell Lavings couldn't hold still as the Valkyrie descended into the upper atmosphere of the jungle moon, prompting a few strange looks from the various security personnel also on board. He was in the AVTR program, chosen for his career in marine biology from his field work back in the abyss of the Pacific Ocean.

"Hey. Sit still, will you?" said one of the soldiers sitting across from Max. She'd heard all about the nasty critters that inhabited the moon, the last thing she needed was some nerd making her nervous.

Max's eyes went wide as he turned his attention to the private.

"Oh! Sorry!" he blurted, and quickly returned to tapping on his knees. Oddly enough, he was the only avatar driver to be delivered from the ISV he was on, and they usually came in groups of three or four. Most of his work would be to research coastline marine life, and he was told multiple times that his interactions with the natives would be low, as his station was situated far from any Na'vi village.

He still couldn't wait. Maybe, if he was really lucky, he'd get to meet the infamous Jake Sully. The ex-marine was a borderline legend, but still very much alive. He didn't interact with the PMC much, except when they had to ask him if they could have permission to dig here, or collect samples there.

"All right!" yelled the PMC lieutenant as he walked through the Valkyrie's cargo hold, "we are touching down in ten minutes! When you land, all security personnel will report to the OPS center immediately. It's right in front of the runway, you can't miss it!"

The soldier pulled out a exopack fastened to his side, and slid it onto his head, adjusting the straps.

"Exopacks on!" he boomed, and everyone aboard complied. The officer rolled his eyes as Maxwell struggled with his, prompting a few snickers from the soldiers as he got it on minutes after everyone else had.

"When you report to the OPS Center, you will receive a safety briefing from our chief security officer. She isn't a patient woman, so God help you if you're late." the officer stated, before walking back into the front part of the Valkyrie.

A few of the soldiers started whispering amongst themselves. Maxwell didn't really know that much about the PMC employees on the base, and had a better working knowledge of the ecosystem of Pandora. He decided to ask about this security chief, maybe get some need-to-know information about the corporate culture he'd inevitably have to deal with. He leaned in towards the technician sitting beside him.

"Hey, what's this about the security chief? She really mean or something?"

The technician chuckled, shaking his head.

"You honestly haven't heard of her?" he asked.

"Uh, no. Should I have?" he replied. He didn't read the news much.

"The security chief for Big Trench? She ain't human." the technician said. Big Trench was the name of the base Dr. Lavings had been assigned to, also known as Extrasolar Colony 09.

"So...she's not very nice."

"No." he said, pointing at Max. "She is literally not human. She's one of the locals."

Maxwell's face twisted into utter shock. He tried to picture one of the Na'vi in a military uniform, and it just didn't seem right. Wouldn't he have heard about something that significant?

"Hey, I found out right after getting defrosted. Apparently they've been keeping it very low-key."

Still, a Na'vi security officer? How the hell did that work? He took his mind off of the matter, instead turning his attention to the lush jungle below. It was quite beautiful, and the doctor could definitely see why someone might want to abandon technology to live in such an Eden. Granted, Earth was getting back on her feet with the help of Pandoran flora, but she still had a ways to go.

"_Coming into Extrasolar Colony Zero Niner, we will be docking in...two minutes. Repeat, we will be landing in two minutes. Make sure your exopack is properly fastened and enjoy your stay." _

After the pilot's voice came in over the intercom, some of the soldiers checked their rebreathers, but most were confident enough that they were working. As they did last-minute preparations, they took note that the pilots forgot to turn off the intercom.

"_Enjoy your stay? This place is a hellhole with leaves."_

"_Well maybe I just wanted to be polite, Frank."_

"_They're not going to enjoy their stay. They'll be too busy dodging viperwolves and hammerheads and shit to-"_

"_Would it kill you to appreciate nature for once?"_

"_I'm sorry I don't fit your hippie standards because like things like air conditioning and not dying."_

"_You know what? Forget it. Hey, is that little light supposed to be on?"_

"_No, that's the intercom syst....aw, crap."_

A click escaped the speakers, and a few of the soldiers started laughing. The officer from earlier came back into the cargo hold, wearing an exopack.

"All right, meat, fun time's over! When that ramp drops, you get off of this damn shuttle, and to the OPS center. That includes everyone!"

The Valkyrie slowed down to a hover as it came into the gray concrete base. It had been named Big Trench because unlike most of the other human bases which where pentagonal in design, it was rectangular, stretching almost ten miles across. The shuttle adjusted its thrusters, and slowly descended onto one of the landing pads. The red light above the ramp turned green, and a _thud _echoed throughout the cabin as the Valkyrie came to a complete stop. The officer walked in front of the closed ramp, and turned towards the rest of the new arrivals.

"The briefing is at 1300 hours! Don't be late!" he yelled as the door to the outside hissed, and the toxic atmosphere of Pandora flooded into the shuttle.

The safety belts on all the passengers unbuckled automatically, and the ramp began to drop. They all stood up, and faced the ramp as it hit the ground. As soon as it did, they soldiers marched out in an orderly fashion, with the technical team following them in a more ragtag formation, with Maxwell leading up the rear. He hadn't studied the map of Big Trench before he arrived, so he just followed everyone else.

But seriously, a Na'vi security officer? He could already tell his stay on Pandora would be interesting.

* * *

The entirety of the people onboard the shuttle had gathered inside the main lobby of the OPS center. It was now 1258 hours, and several of the personnel were talking amongst themselves, as pretty much everyone at that point had heard the rumors of their boss.

"So, what's your story?" said the receptionist, as Maxwell had taken to leaning against the counter, waiting for the security chief.

"Huh?" he blabbed stupidly, not realizing there was somebody behind him.

"You don't look like a grunt. No camo."

He looked down as his blue jeans and blue cotton shirt, and laughed a little.

"Oh, I'm an avatar driver."

The receptionist's eyes lit up and she leaned. "Oh, how neat! That already scores browny points with the chief."

"So...I've heard rumors about her. About her being..."

"Different?" the woman replied, smiling.

_Ding._

"Oh, that must be her!" she said, turning to the elevator in the front of the room. The rest of the arrivals also took note, giving their undivided attention to the metal doors of the elevator. The large doors slid open, and the rumor was confirmed.

A very annoyed-looking Na'vi female stood in the otherwise vacant elevator, hands behind her back and her tail dragging behind her. Her pointed ears were laying down flat, and she was wearing blue digitized camo pants, with a white t-shirt. She was obviously not very happy to be there, and stomped each step towards the crowd. As she took a final heavy step towards the crowd and stopped, she looked the crowd over once.

"Welcome to my home."

She walked towards one of the windows outside, hands still behind her back.

"As far as I believe, you are all guests here."

She turned around, looking even more annoyed than before.

"Uninvited guests." she growled, her accent adding to her already intimidating demeanor. Being a good three feet taller than everyone else does that.

"I have things to do, so I will be short. Most of you are here to bolster the security. That makes me your boss, and as long as you stay here, you answer to me. Before I tell you the rules you _will_ obey while you are here, I will tell you most important law of this planet."

She leaned towards the crowd.

"You will respect this planet."

The Na'vi straightened back up, and began scanning the humans.

"Colonel Milesquaritch had many rules, but respecting the forest was not one of them. The last thing he ever saw were two arrows in his chest cavity."

The warrior had their full attention now. They'd all heard about the infamous RDA security chief from thirty years ago, and his blatant disregard for cooperation with the natives. The history books usually would say something to the effect of him being killed by the tribe's princess, and what was left of his body after the scavengers got done with it was not pretty.

"I can guarantee you: if you disrespect my home, I will personally throw you outside the gate with nothing more than an exopack and a knife."

Maxwell felt a tap on his shoulder as he turned to the receptionist. She mouthed 'she will do it!', and the doctor turned back as the Na'vi went over the standard security rules of Big Trench, most of them having to do with leaving the wildlife alone and not picking fights with nature. After she was finished with her list, she looked over the crowd once more.

"All security arrivals, go to the barracks. Technicians, the elevator is behind me."

They filed out, leaving Dr. Lavings all alone. He really didn't want to be left with the scary Na'vi lady, but he didn't really have a choice as she walked up to him, looking down on the puny doctor.

"Let me guess. You have an avatar?" she asked. Her voice seemed a bit less harsh towards Maxwell.

"Oh...yeah! I'm a marine biologist." he replied quickly, not wanting to incur the wrath of the large alien.

"The science lab is right behind this building. You can find it easy enough."

She walked past the doctor, and into the airlock which the arrivals had gone through to get inside. After the metal door to the exit closed, Maxwell turned to the receptionist.

"She's scary." he murmured. The receptionist giggled.

"Oh, she's not like that all the time. Just towards the soldiers, mostly."

"Great."

The doctor sighed, and walked towards the back of the building, looking for an exit to the avatar compound.

* * *

"Hi!" Maxwell chirped as he entered the science lab. A few of the scientists shook his hand as he introduced himself as the new avatar driver. One of the crew came forward, wearing a high-security clearance PMC tag. He looked kind of like a ghost, as his white lab coat didn't do anything to help his high cheekbones, bony limbs, and gray hair.

"Hello, Dr. Lavings. Welcome to Pandora. I'm Dr. Lee." he said as he shook Maxwell's hand. "Did you meet Chief Bananti?"

"Yeah. She got her point across."

"Well, don't let her get to you. She actually kind of tolerates avatars. Speaking of which, yours should be ready to go in about five hours."

Five hours? He'd been dreaming about using an avatar for the better part of his life! He couldn't wait five hours!

He eventually decided to just re-read a copy of Dreamwalker he had in his backpack. Jake Sully's memoir was pretty much required reading for anyone going to Pandora, detailing his arrival and eventual betrayal of the RDA. It was a beautiful piece of literature, and it had been reprinted several times, with forewords by several xenobiologists and even some members of his own clan.

The doctor finished it in four and a half hours, and used the rest of the time to skim through the avatar manual he'd been given when he started his training back on Earth. He went through the pamphlet in record time, still anxious to give his avatar a whirl. He stood up, having sat in the chair of his empty office during his wait. He could have spent the opportunity to unpack, but he could do that tomorrow.

As he rummaged through backpack for something else to do, he saw Dr. Lee walk up to the doorway.

"It's ready to go."

* * *

Maxwell's heart leaped.

"Anything I should know before doing this?" he asked one of the veteran avatar pilots leaving the linkup room.

"Not really. Just take your time after you switch."

He underwent some simple cognitive tests before laying down in the latex mat of the link bed. One of the scientists fastened him in, making sure all the harnesses were secure before closing the linker.

"Oh, man. I still can't believe I'm doing this." Maxwell muttered. A voice came in over a tiny speaker in the chamber.

"You ready, Dr. Lavings? Commencing link in three."

Maxwell's muscled tensed.

"Two."

He closed his eyes.

"One."

He remembered he left his music player back on the Valkyrie.

What felt like an electric current shot throughout his nervous system, and he suddenly felt himself without form, traveling through a rainbow of colors. He'd been told by several of the drivers what it looked like, but it was something that really defied description, and just as soon as it appeared, it was gone.

He could see white now, and was aware of his body once more. He lifted his arms, and two striped limbs came into in his vision. As he was flexing them, a doctor in an exopack appeared over him.

"Hello Dr. Lavings. Does everything feel all right?"

"Yeah." he replied hazily, slowly sitting up.

Another round of tests were done on him. His vision checked out, and his hearing was okay. Reflexes? Good. After the scientists around him were convinced his avatar was in perfect health, they let him stand up on his own, slowly.

With his avatar in good condition, he was brought some oversized clothes. A pair of short khakis, and a light brown shirt. He changed out of his medical gown, and Dr. Lee came in over the intercom.

"You doing okay?"

"Yeah!" he yelled back as he was tying the laces around his boots. The humans were still hovering around him, jotting down notes as he finished putting on his clothes.

"You're doing good, Max. I think you can go outside."

One of the science team unlocked the door to the outside avatar compound, and with several nods from his shorter colleagues, he slowly walked outside. He cursed himself as he opened the secondary door too quickly, and the sunlight temporarily blinded him. When his eyes adjusted, he could see several other avatars walking about, either running around the track for exercise or playing basketball. He could even see Bananti talking to one of the avatars. He ran over to say hello, only to trip and send himself into the dirt.

"You see, there's a hierarchy when it comes to scientists." Dr. Richard explained to Bananti as he saw Maxwell trip, "It's physicist, then biologist, then botanist, then anthropologist, then astronomer, and waaaaaay down at the bottom: marine biologist."

No matter. He'd read Dr. Tabar's book too. If that chemist put up with all the things that happened to him, so could he. He got up, dusted himself off, and shrieked in pain when he stepped on his own tail.

Two of the avatars playing basketball stopped when they heard the doctor scream and saw him jumping around, clutching his tail.

"New guy." they said in unison.


	3. Party

_**July 6th, 2186**_

"_We live in an era of uncompromising optimism."_

Dr. Holmes had read that line in a newspaper right before leaving Pandora. The article was about how two geeky guys from Canada had discovered a way to artificially produce Unobtanium cheaply two years ago, negating the need for mining operations on Pandora. The writer gushed on about how humanity was entering a golden age, and that a few nerds had concluded that mankind was something on the order of a 1.4 Type civilization.

The media almost melted from the news of the discovery. The two scientists were given awards and honors from pretty much every country and corporation in existence, and many people speculated if the PMC should change their name. They didn't, but the point still stood: now that the energy crisis was solved, Earth's atmosphere was on its way to a slow recovery, and the Na'vi didn't kill humans on sight, what was left?

Good feelings. It seems wherever you went, it was a little bit brighter, and people had a small spring in their step. In the places on Earth where the sky weren't totally obscured by the super-skyscrapers, you could even say the sun seemed a bit brighter, and that wasn't just because the ozone layer was gone. The United Nations ruled that the PMC would be allowed to continue operations, with their charter altered slightly to disallow mining equipment.

Dr. Holmes thought it was a bunch of happy-go-lucky BS.

Currently, he was working out of a makeshift lab in the massive jungles of Pandora. It was little more than a large tent, but it protected his research from being damaged whenever the weather turned bad. His lab equipment was oversized, too, to accommodate his avatar. To keep himself from going insane, he turned to one of the few things he liked in life: music.

More specifically, music from the 1930s and 40s. To him, Bing Crosby was a _god._

As he was looking through some samples under his microscope, the music player switched to Bing's rendition of Home on the Range. Holmes didn't play his music very loud, because that would invite predators. Juuuust enough to entertain him as he did busy work out in the woods, which was often hours, sometimes a whole day at a time.

He slid out the sample and stored it in a box. The doctor began to slowly (and awkwardly) dance to the music.

"_Home, home on the raaaange..."_ he parroted as the lyrics came out. He wasn't a terribly talented singer, either.

"_Where the hexapedes and hammer-heads play..."_ he continued, substituting two extinct species from Earth with the local wildlife. He stopped singing the rest, and continued to hum the tune as he resumed his work, taking out another sample and placing it on a glass slide.

He was a chemist, born and raised in Alaska, one of the few places on Earth that wasn't totally covered in urban sprawl. His life was a fairly simple: went to school, graduated, went to college, graduated, got a job as a pharmacist, got fired, underwent the avatar program admission test out of boredom, passed.

When he got the encrypted email sent from the AVTR office mainframe, he laughed, thinking it was a joke. It wasn't until he got a phone call asking about his lack of a reply did the truth settle in.

Even though the whole point of making avatars was to try and reduce misunderstandings between the two species, it had really turned into a glorified version of field research. The AVTR program was originally meant to try and recruit miners for Unobtanium, but when the element was no longer needed on the planet, it's focused shifted for an easier way to conduct studies.

Frankly, Dr. Holmes liked it that way. The humans rarely ventured outside their huge compounds, only doing so to deliver researchers to their outposts, or to carry supplies somewhere else. The avatars did most of the talking.

_Crunch._

The pointed ears of the doctor's avatars twitched, and he spun around to the front of his tent. What sounded like a twig snapping had come from outside. The music player was still going through its pre-set list of swing and jazz, playing overly upbeat music.

"Hello?" Holmes said, half-expecting a reply. None. Must've been an animal.

He heard another crunch, and then a low angry voice following it. Okay, maybe it wasn't an animal.

The doctor walked to the front of his tent, pushing the flap aside. He looked around his wooded surrounding for any sign of life, and saw none. He was about to step back inside when he saw a blue tail sticking out from behind a rock. The doctor smiled.

"_I see you." _he said in Na'vi. He saw the tail twitch and a four-fingered hand snatch it out of sight, but his visitor did not answer him.

"_You! Behind the rock!" _he shouted, clarifying.

At first he received no response, but after a few second he saw the face of a Na'vi adolescent slow appear, wearing a frightened look on his face. He'd been caught, and the poor little guy had no idea what the big scary dreamwalker was going to do with him.

"_I'm not going to hurt you."_

The Na'vi shot back behind his hiding place. Holmes shrugged. At least he couldn't say he didn't try.

"Fine. Be that way." he muttered as he went back inside his tent. He didn't converse with the natives much. The clan that inhabited the area he worked in were slow to trust, and in the twenty or so years since the colony nearby was set up, they had only accepted two avatars into their clan.

As he began adjusting the microscope's knobs to get a better look at one of his slides, he heard another crunch, closer to his tent. He moved his head up from the microscope, now annoyed. He stomped back towards the entrance, shooting his head outside. The doctor caught the young Na'vi red-handed, and the native looked around desperately for a hiding place, but to no avail.

"Caught you." he remarked with a smirk. The Na'vi put a hand forward, spreading his fingers.

"_I don't want to fight you!" _he yelled, fumbling for a small knife fasted to his side. Not that he'd last long against the doctor; he was still a young teenager from the looks of it, and the doctor towered over him.

"_Good. I don't want to start a fight." _he replied. The hunter relaxed somewhat, easing his grip on the knife handle. The doctor folded his arms. _"Now, I do want you to explain why you were sneaking around my home."_

"_The music."_

The doctor shook his head a bit, not quite understanding the Na'vi's answer. "_What?"_

"_The music. I could hear it from the river. It's beautiful."_

Was he really playing it _that _loud? Holmes laughed.

"_Yes. It was coming from my home, if you wanted to know."_

Just then, he saw movement in the bushes, and a very annoyed Na'vi woman came appeared out of the bushes, glaring down the other alien.

"_There you are!" _she spat, _"Your friends told me you went off to the dreamwalker's hut! You should know better!"_

The woman didn't even acknowledge the chemist's presence as she continued to scold the Na'vi teen. Then, she said something that caught the doctor's attention.

"_I understand you want to know about the Sky People because of your uncle, but that is no excuse to-"_

"Excuse me!" he interrupted in English. The two Na'vi turned towards him, the younger looking confused, the older still looking annoyed.

"_Are you his mother?" _he asked, motioning towards the younger one. Her expression became indignant.

"_No!" _she hissed, "_I'd fight a Palulukan if that were true! I'm this little idiot's sister."_

"_You mentioned an uncle?"_

She replied with a 'hmph!' and faced the doctor, her face twisted with disdain.

"_My mother would always go on about the evil nature of the Sky People. How they would destroy, burn, slash everything around them. Then, my mother's sister _mates _with one of the dreamwalkers! My mother nearly died from shock!"_

She must have been talking about Dr. Offer. Holmes had arrived right after the debacle had occurred, but he had managed to get the jist of it: Dr. Offer was a xenolinguist, and assigned to the nearby colony to gain the native's trust. He apparently did a well enough job to be accepted into their clan as one of their own, and he fell in love with one of the natives shortly after that. Holmes hadn't had a romantic thought in his life, and the whole affair seemed like a stupid move on the scientist's part anyway.

"_Yes, I can see why you wouldn't want him coming near here."_

The Na'vi woman simply snorted at the doctor as she grabbed the young hunter by one hand and started to drag him back home, but as she turned heel, her ears twitched.

"_That music." _she murmured, turning towards Holmes' tent, her face now softened into childlike wonder.

"_Nobody_ can resist the power of the Bing." he thought to himself.

* * *

"_And _this _was created by a man named Bring Crosby."_ he explained to the Na'vi huntress, clicking his remote to the music player. The _Pistol Packin' Mama _came booming over the speakers. He'd been showing the two aliens samples of human music for the past few hours. The older one was even more fascinated than her brother, with awe plastered across her face.

After the clip finished, the Na'vi female spoke. "_I...I never knew Sky People could even make music."_

"_See, I told you uncle's stories were true!"_

Well, now Dr. Offer's niece (technically speaking) would be a little less hostile towards him, the doctor thought. He'd met the fellow avatar driver several times , and he had always looked tired from his extended stays in the link bed, but strangely content. The linguist lived a double-life. When he wasn't in his link chamber, he was writing long notes about Na'vi culture and his experiences with them. Strange man, always smiling and humming.

"_You two better go home, now. I'm sure your parents are worried about you."_

The female titled her head. _"Why would they be worried about us? I know the forest better than anyone, and I'm not letting my brother leave my sight."_

So much for getting them to leave.

The doctor rubbed the bridge of his flat, cat-like nose. He liked that the aliens appreciated human music, sure, but he still had a lot more samples to observe, and he'd have to exit his avatar pretty soon to get something to eat. He asked them once more to go, and the older younger Na'vi pleaded for him to let them stay and hear more of his music.

It didn't help that several of the young hunter's friends eventually located Dr. Holmes' tent, and he had to introduce them to the Sky People's music, too. He had become the local DJ.

One of the young hunter's friends left momentarily. After the chemist heard a lot of rustling in the leaves surrounding his tent did he go outside, and the Na'vi that had left reappeared from the forest dragging a Na'vi man behind him, looking slightly puzzled. Then, Holmes noticed something very strange about this Na'vi: he had five fingers.

As he came closer to the tent, he got a good look at the avatar's face. It was Dr. Offer, looking full native, having been accepted into the clan years ago.

"Hi." Holmes said to the other avatar.

"I knew it was you!" he replied, grinning. "I could hear that ancient stuff a mile from here."

"Hey!" Holmes retorted, "They like it!" he said as made a quick notion towards his tent, opening to flap to show a small gathering of Na'vi, some of them laughing and dancing along to the upbeat swing.

"Could you get them out of here, though? I gotta get out of my avatar to get something to eat and..." he started, but was cut off as Offer put a hand to his chest.

"I understand. You get something to eat, I'll take care of 'em."

"Thanks."

Dr. Holmes had a cot set up in the tent, in case he absolutely needed to exit his avatar. But, since Offer was going to clear out his visitors, he'd jump out and fix himself a quick meal and drink something. By the time he was done and got back inside his avatar, the linguist should have convinced them to leave.

Defeated from his failure of evicting his visitors, he walked over to the cot, laid down, and closed his eyes. It took a special kind of concentration to jump out of the avatar, and was one of the first things they were taught back in the training program. That, and not slamming doors on your tail. His body went limp, and Offer knew he had jacked out, his avatar dead to the world. He clasped his hands together.

"_All right! Now we can _really_ have a party!" _the xenolinguist cried.

* * *

"I hate you so much, Offer." Holmes growled through his teeth as one of the older Na'vi women finished applying the red paint used for their acceptance ceremony.

What had happened in the last six months were a real doozy. After Bill left his avatar, Offer did not chase off the visitors to the tent. Instead, he invited over several other clan members, and they threw a party. Holmes woke up to find that he was the guest of honor, and that Offer had put in a good name for him for introducing the natives to such wonderful music.

He found out later that Offer had asked if the clan would train the doctor, and eventually accept him, all behind the chemist's back. Holmes first reaction to the news was _"hell no!"_ but he was later told by the head of the local AVTR team that he _better _do it or he'd be on the next ISV home.

"Hey. Don't blame me! Blame your crappy music." Offer said in his defense.

"When I'm done with this, I'm going to murder your _face._" the chemist hissed.

With the whole clan in observance, the dreamwalker was declared one of the People. As reluctant as he was to go through with it, he couldn't help but feel a little pride. The other avatar driver that had been accepted, Britney, was crying tears of joy. Offer simply smiled, and Holmes did his best to act humble.

A week later, he threw the nanodisk containing his favorite songs off a cliff for all the trouble it had brought him.

At that exact same moment, somewhere, somehow, Grace Augustine was laughing her ass off.


	4. Geekette

**September 24th, 2173**

"Gentlemen!" the Major White shouted, his voice echoing throughout the small room, "You are in the most badass bush in history. I don't know what they told you on the way here, but it probably wasn't pleasant."

He stopped, eying the new arrivals. The major had to keep them in line and prevent them from enraging the natives again, or it'd be his ass.

"In fact, whatever exaggerated stories about the wildlife here probably weren't exaggerated enough. I know you're all eager to grab a rifle and go shoot something, but I'm here to tell you that it ain't happening."

He withdrew a pointer, flicking it to extend it to it's full length. He'd also use it to hit lazy grunts with. The chief walked over to a holograph display, showing the small base.

"This," he began, pointing at the huge metal door leading to the jungle on the hologram, "is The Gate. You may never leave the Gate unless you have direct permission from me or a Code Blue is in effect."

The officer looked around. A few of the grunts looked annoyed. They probably thought they'd come here, shoot some dumb animals, and collect a nice paycheck. The chief moved the hologram's focus a bit, now pointing his stick towards the concrete that extended from The Gate, ending about fifty feet outside.

"This is The Line. If anything crosses The Line and isn't walking on two legs, you have permission to shoot it if it shows hostile intention."

One of the grunts raised his hand.

"Yes?"

"So...we can't shoot the locals no matter what they do?"

The chief closed the retractable pointer back up, his expression twisted into sheer disdain.

"Listen. I don't care if they strip nude and moon you, I have orders, and by extension, YOU have orders to not screw with the natives. We've worked very, _very_ hard to get to the point where they're allowing us to build bases on the planet again, and the last thing I need is some jarhead losing his cool because one of the Na'vi blew a raspberry at him. So, that's a 'yes'."

The veteran looked over the crowd once more. "Any more questions?"

"Yeah," said one of the other soldiers, "what about Thanators?"

"Thanators always have hostile intent, so shoot on sight."

The soldier nodded, grinning chief went over the basic rules of the base, and dismissed the grunts right after. He wasn't much a speaker, so he'd just let his actions do the talking when one of the grunts inevitably messed up.

* * *

"_Major?"_

_ZZZZzzzzzZZZZzzz..._

"_Major? We have a developing situation at The Gate."_

The words "developing situation" snapped the officer out of his afternoon nap, which he always took in his office. He turned to his communicator, clicking one of the buttons. "What's going on?"

"_There's a local standing near the line. She's carrying weapons, but she doesn't look like she wants to start anything."_

"Then don't." he replied.

"_Well, that's the thing. She won't leave. We tried talking to her, and she said she wanted to speak with you."_

His eyes widened as he slammed his hands down on his desk.

"What!? She spoke English?"

"_Yeah. She said she knows you."_

White turned off the communicator, running his hands through is graying hairline. "This native better be telling us we can dig wherever we want, I shit you not." he growled as he grabbed a nearby exopack and headed outside his chambers.

* * *

"_Commander leaving The Gate!"_

"_Commander leaving The Gate!"_

He stepped up to the large metal door, which opened automatically as its intricate workings began working and the gate slid open to the jungles outside. The second he was outside, the gate slammed shut with enough force to break a man in half. Standing farther away was a Na'vi warrior, accompanied by another Na'vi, arms crossed and looking none too happy.

As he walked towards the end of the concrete that stretched out into the Wilds of Pandora, the native in front spread out herarms and smiled. The native ran up to White, picking up the shocked commander and hugging him tightly. As he did, several soldier from The Gate started yelling at the native to let go of him, training rifles and turrets on the Na'vi. As they did, White got a good look at the local's face.

"Do not fire!" he screamed. "That is an order! She's not hostile!"

A few of the soldiers gave White a weird look at the native put him down, but obeyed, lowering their rifles. The Na'vi stopped hugging White and let him down to the ground gently. White had to lean in to confirm what he already knew, and laughed when he saw the familiar features of an old friend.

"Well rape my horse and call me grandma." the major said, smiling at the huge native, "It's you, isn't it?"

Private Simms, who had been manning one of the turrent emplacements, had had enough. "Could someone _please_ explain to me what is going on?"

The major turned back to The Gate. "Open The Gate! This lady is an old friend!"

There was a slight pause, but the metal door opened, inviting them in. The major turned back towards the native.

"Ryder. I've heard a lot about you."

* * *

"Bah! I do not see why you had to drag me here." Beyda'amo spat. He was the warrior accompanying Ryder, displeased with his current location.

"Maybe I thought you needed to make new friends." Ryder shot back to the warrior behind her. He pointed a thumb towards the warrior.

"That's Beyda'amo. Behind all those scars and war paint, he's...kind of a jerk. Still a good friend though."

The major laughed, prompting a sneer from Beyda'amo. Able Ryder had become something of a legend even before Jake Sully, having sided with the Na'vi during an uprising from one of the Na'vi clans. Ryder's linkup station was reported destroyed soon after her betrayal, but scattered, unconfirmed reports kept pouring about a Na'vi warrior that looked just like Ryder. The rumors were denied up and down by the RDA, who were sure they had killed the traitor.

Ryder had been one of White's students when she was trained in cyber-warefare when they were both still in the U.S Army, decoding terrorist's messages and trying to scramble their communications. He had been her superior officer during the time she was in his unit, but he resigned in protest over the heavy-handed suppression of an eco-terrorist cell, which had suffered unneeded collateral damage. Ryder transferred to the RDA out of guilt, until another incident forced her back into the military. Able Ryder had become something of a myth, stuff the soldiers would make into scary stories to pass the time, but there she was, in the flesh. Sort of.

"So, how did you manage to live this long? Did you find another linkup station?" he asked.

Ryder shook her head, smiling. "I pulled a Jake Sully."

"Wait, what? H-"

"I don't know how she did it either, but the _Tsahik _saved my life. My human body's dead, though."

The warrior Beyda'amo felt the need to voice his opinion. "Hmph! This alien will never understand! We should have gone to war when they returned, but instead you tell us to wait?"

"Beyda'amo," Ryder said, ears going flat from annoyance, "I think you should know something about yourself. You are a horrible, horrible judge of character. Remember what you said when you first met me?"

"That was different! W-"

"Big B, shut it. The Sky People are willing to get along with us this time around. What would ol' Tan Jala think?"

The warrior simply harrumphed in response, walking away from the gathering of soldiers, the small humans giving the grumpy warrior plenty of elbow room.

"Now, I think we have some catching up to do." Able said.

A reporter had been at the base at the same time of Ryder's visit, but wasn't alerted about it until she went outside to go to another building, and caught Able retelling her stories of adventure, like how she brought down a RDA tower using explosives. She ran over to the crowd, where White explained to the Able that she was a reporter from MarsNet, embedded with their base. The reporter timidly asked for an interview, and Ryder nodded.

"I am going to get _so_ many awards for this!" the reporter thought to herself.

* * *

_Interview with Able Zoey Ryder, excerpt. _

_Shelly McKean, MarsNet News._

"_So, why did you do it?"_

"_Hm?"_

"_Why did you betray the RDA?"_

"_That's kind of a rhetorical question, don't you think?"_

"_Just for the folks back home."_

"_Oh, back home, huh? Then I'd give a big shout-out to California's 34th Cyberops Battalion! You guys rock!"_

_(laughter)_

"_Um, I guess I had a heart? I was basically given the choice: wipe out the Na'vi, and help gigantic faceless corporation, or don't."_

"_So the decision wasn't hard for you?"_

"_Not really, no."_

"_You've said that you have no plans of returning home. Why is that?_

"_Well, I'm stuck like I am. Earth's doing better from what I've heard, but...I have kids now. Not to mention I kind of enjoy my celebrity status with the Tipani."_

"_You have...children?"_

"_Yeah, I didn't think it could happen either."_

"_You're looking great for a mom."_

"_Thank you!"_

_(end segment)

* * *

_

_Interview with Beyda'amo, excerpt. _

_Shelly McKean, MarsNet News._

"_So, um, Mr. Beyda'amo..."_

"_Mister?I have no time for your alien titles!"_

"_Apologizes, sir."_

"_I suppose you want to ask me about Ableryder."_

"_Actually, I was going to ask a few question about your involvement in the Tipani uprising. You were in quite a few battles."_

"_Yes, I was."_

"_Would you retell any of them?"_

"_No, I won't."_

(end segment)

_

* * *

_

"I hate to see you go, Ryder." the commander said, shaking the avatar's blue hand as they both walked toward the gate, Beyda'amo having left hours ago.

"Hey. I'm around. If you need me, just shine the Bernoulli differential equation into the sky. It's like the bat-signal for me." Deep down, Ryder never did give up math. She still wrote mathematical equations along the canyon walls where her village was, sometimes spawning questions of her sanity among the clan. she was still a geek, and proud of it. She stepped outside the metal gate into ran with feline agility into the dense undergrowth of the jungle, disappearing from site.

"That woman is crazy." White said, chuckling.


	5. The Club

**April 29th, 2170**

"_Any last words?"_

"_For crissakes man, I'm coming back. Eventually."_

Pandora. A planet (just don't say that around a group of astronomers, for they will correct you with the fury of a thousand suns) of mystery and wonder. Also home to the Na'vi, the only other intelligent species known to humanity, and one that they had been trying desperately to regain the trust of for the past two decades or so.

As it stood, the PMC had been doing relatively well in negations with the natives, even getting back on non-face-stabbing terms, but human civilization still needed that small gray rock. It was finally decided that they could only survey it in areas where minimal damage would be done to the planet, and then only under extremely close supervision by the tall blue aliens. As in, dig in the wrong crevice and find yourself and your whole team dumped outside the gates of the nearest human base wearing nothing but your birthday suit and an exopack. If you were lucky.

"_Say something for the camera!"_

"_I don't have much to say."_

Dr. Neely had just completed his avatar training, and was due on the _ISV Haley 2 _the next day. In celebration of his sending off, all his friends threw him a going-away party, as he wouldn't return to Earth for the better part of twenty years. His doctorate was in toxicology, and his job description was to research Pandora's venomous animals. And hey, if his avatar died from a bite, he'd only be scarred for life from the experience!

"_C'mon! Say something! What's it like to get an avatar?"_

"_If I had it my way, I'd clone only three humans and give them avatars: Robert Ripley, Steve Irwin, and Charles Darwin. But yeah, it's cool."_

Neely drank punch throughout most of the party while each of his friends, acquaintances, and people he'd met on the bus once had all wished him good luck. As he continued to sip his sugary drink, a fellow avatar driver from training stumbled up to Neely, obviously drunk.

"Hey..." he started, a vacant grin spread across his face, "whatcha gonna do when he get to Pandadora?"

Neely shook his head. Dr. Brown was a good guy, just a tad on the tipsy side. "I'm going to research Pandora's venomous wildlife."

"Uh huh." came Brown's reply, after a few slow blinks. He lifted up a finger, a lecherous smile very visible."That's boring though. Why don't you...you know..."

"Oh god, Joe, don't even go there." he said, facepalming. The doctor gave a half shrug, and walked away. He'd heard stories about how of the scientists would like their new body a little _too_ much and end up going full native, only ever coming out of the link chamber to eat and drink. Neely knew better; Pandora was a horrible, soul-destroying rainforest that would kill you if it even suspected you gave it a funny look behind its back.

One of Neely's old friends came back with the camera, trying to get some more material out of the doctor.

"Come on Jack! It's the last time we'll all be to together. Don't you have anything to say?" he said, peering through the holo-recorder's eye slot.

"Okay," he replied, setting down his plastic cup and grabbing the camera, "Dear Jack Neely, if you are watching this, it means you didn't die in Pandora. Congrats!"

The party wore on into the night, but Neely and the other avatar drivers eventually had to shoo everyone off so they could crash in the young toxicologist's apartment. They slept on whatever looked like a bed, and that included the coffee table.

"Vitals are...good." the orderly said, checking Neely over one last time before his was to go in cyro. He shined a light into the doctor's eyes, nodded, and floated o the next person ready to get frozen for the long trip to the jungle moon.

Neely and the other drivers that had partied with him got chewed out pretty hard by the PMC exec when they arrived to the docked shuttle, quite hungover. He couldn't fire them though, those avatars were almost worth their weight in Unobtanium. The admin had to settle for lecturing them on how he expected better from professionals before getting them onto the shuttle for takeoff.

"_Psssst."_

Neely heard the noise, and ignored it.

"_Pssssssst."_

He looked toward the direction and saw a young man with a buzz cut smiling at him. It was a little creepy too, considering he had yellow eyes.

"What?" Neely asked, wondering what he could want right before cyro.

"You're in the avatar program, ain't ya?" the soldier replied, tilting his head toward the "AVTR" logo right below the PMC'logo on the medical gown he was wearing.

"Yeah, why?"

"Oh man, that must be so cool! Be able to talk to the natives and everything."

"I guess. What's your story?"

"Oh, I'm just dumb muscle. Got in the military years ago, but I just ended up sitting on my ass. So as soon as I got out, I signed up for the security for Pandora."

"You seem excited."

"Well, I figure might actually see some action. Mom didn't take it too well though. My older brother got shot dead over in Morocco."

"Oh, sorry."

The soldier tried to wave an arm in dismissal, but forgot his whole body had been fastened down, as with everyone else. "Nah, don't worry about it. He died long before I was born anyway, since I'm a clone of him and all."

"Isn't that ridiculously expensive to do?"

"She's still paying off the bill. I figure the paycheck I collect from a tour on Pandora will pay it off, and then some. So, what are you gonna do in Pandora?"

"I, uh, study poisonous animals."

"Oh, neat. Which base you getting assigned to?"

"Uh, ESC 04."

The soldier laid his head back on the flat pillow, going over the name outloud. "Extra...Solar...Colony Four."

The soldier's eyes lit up, and he turned back to the doctor, beaming.

"Oh shit,White Bay! That's where I'm headed too!"

The head orderly floated through the cylindrical center of the ISV, looking over his subordinates as they finished checking up on the last few passengers.

"All right everyone! You will undergo cyrostatis in ten minutes! Do not talk, do not move! The orderlies will put you in your chambers for freezing, and you'll wake up when we arrive at Pandora, five years, one month, and five days, barring any incidents!"

The soldier next to Neely straightened up, obeying the head orderly's command. Before one of them floated over to push the soldier in the the chamber, the doctor whispered to the slightly jittery soldier.

"Hey. I didn't catch your name."

The soldier didn't move, but did glance over to Neely. "It's Josh."

"Jack." Neely replied.

One of the ISV's crew floated over and pushed in Josh's bed after injecting something in his arm. The crewmember then floated over to Neely.

"Ready?"

"Make me a snowman."

The orderly gave an amused smile in return as he took out a needle and injected a clear liquid into the doctor's arm, and slid in his bed. The inside was remarkably like the mockup avatar beds he'd trained in, back on Earth, right down to the soft blue lights in the interior. It was horribly silent, too, the chamber having to be sealed very tightly to ensure full freezing.

He looked over his surroundings once more, and closed his eyes. He thought back to when he was just a little kid and the shitstorm that occurred when the RDA came home saying they had been pushed off the planet in a completely unprovoked attack by the Na'vi, and suddenly not taking any press conferences for a week after the video of the colonel blowing up the native's home. The RDA went under about a year after that, th ICA removing its monopoly on interstellar mining.

The PMC took their place, being backed by the various nations of Earth in a joint effort to re-establish trade. Besides the natives giving the PMC a better reception, not much had changed other than the ISVs were faster.

He soon began to wonder why it was so hard to form thoughts anymore, and he realized the sedatives the orderly had injected him with earlier were taking effect, and was to knock him out cold.

The last thing he thought of before drifting off into dreamless sleep was his friends he was leaving behind on Earth, and what they'd look like when he returned.

* * *

**May 3rd, 2175**

_Hungry._

It was the first thing that had popped into Neely's mind as he stirred from cyro, his newly thawed body a little worse for wear for being flash-frozen and then unfrozen five years later.

_God I'm hungry._

As the second thought passed through his skull, his chamber hissed, and his slab gradually slid out. Neely cringed as the bright artificial lights of the ISV's interior temporarily blinded him.

A familiar voice groaned next to the toxicologist. "Oh, man. I feel awful."

He was still too weak to turn his head, but he knew the soldier at least felt just as bad as him. One of the crew members of the ISV floated above Neely and landed on a small ledge above the bed, shining the bright LED directly into his cornea.

"How do you feel?"

"Like crap."

"That's normal. You look alright, though."

The orderly pushed himself off to go check up on another awakening passenger, and Neely felt enough of his strength return to glance over to Josh, who was still groaning. Another man floated over to Josh and unfastened his straps, setting the soldier free in the Zero-G environment, with another crew member doing the same to Neely. The lazily guided themselves to the lockers just below their cyro chambers, and opened it up.

Tofu, beef, juice, and a sugar cookie.

_Great.

* * *

_

Two minutes.

Jack Neely stepped out of his mobile linkup station for two minutes to get the AVTR backpack he'd left outside. Wearing his plastic mask to protect him from the outside elements, he quickly located the bright yellow bag nestled a few from from the avatar's side of the link station. Jack had actually been assigned to deliver some supplies to the link station that day, and was inside, waving to the scientist from behind the plexiglass window. Neely grabbed the bag and waved back, then looked down and shrieked in terror.

It was an Arachnoid, or laymen's terms, a very mean, scorpion-like insect found in the jungles of Pandora. Aery, very poisonous, and almost impossible to catch as it was normally very skittish. The small dark insect delivered a tiny surprised hiss and plunged its double stinger into Neely's hand, injecting its entire reserve of venom into the doctor's blood stream.

The doctor fell to the ground instantly, the potent venom already taken effect. Just a few drops were enough to kill a human, and he'd been injected with a syringe's worth.

"Jack!" Josh screamed in horror as he saw the doctor go tumbling to the ground. He desperately fumbled for one of the exopacks hanging on the wall and kicked the door to the outside open, fastening on the device as he stepped outside. He ran up to Neely, who was already starting to shiver.

"Oh god..." he mumbled, getting on his knees, "Hold on. I'll go get someone!"

Neely tried to tell the soldier he had plenty of Arachnoid anti-venom in the mobile lab, but his mouth had stopped working a few seconds ago.

The soldier pulled out a radio and began requesting medical assistance from the nearest base, but Neely knew it was too late. It would take way too long for a chopper to rescue him, and the soldier didn't know anything about the serums in the lab to nullify the venom. His breathing became ragged as the venom creeped upwards from his arm.

As the soldier was turned away from Neely, flipping out and yelling the person on the other end of the radio to get a Samson over to the site, the doctor knew he was entering the mid stages of the venom, as he was started to hallucinate.

A woodsprite, or at least one his drug-addled brain conjured up, floated over his vision and landed on the plastic surface of his mask. It remained there for a second, before a second one joined in, landing on the scientist's stomach. A third and final one gracefully floated over landed on the doctor's right hand, where he had been stung. It must have been his mind attempt to create a placebo, because he instantly felt a little better, the pain subsiding enough to only feel like his whole body was on fire instead of in the core of the Sun.

He blacked out right after that, the venom entering its deadlier stages. He'd come to for a few seconds at a time afterwards, only catching bits of Jack's shouting and the sound of something being vision would even return for a few seconds, and the surreal image presented to him apparently flying through the jungle, backwards, nine feet in the air. Following him was Jack, and behind him a figure he couldn't make out, carrying a limp body.

He blacked out again.

When he temporarily regained consciousness, he heard more shouting, but the voice didn't belong to Jack. It was deeper, angrier. A second, annoyed voice followed, berating the first. Neely was cognitive enough to know he was hearing the Na'vi language, but still much too delirious to try and translate.

He blacked out once more.

His mind returned once more, just in time for him to feel his body dropped on what felt like a wooden table, prompting a weak groan from him. He was sweating buckets now, and it was nothing short of a miracle that the venom hadn't killed him yet. The frail human started to spasm, and he realized that he couldn't breathe. He coughed once, twice, and let out a final lurch before going limp. Darkness enveloped him. His consciousness faded, slipping away like water down a pipe.

And then, he awoke with a gasp. He struggled for air as he suddenly found himself able to breathe again. He grabbed his throat, letting out a few raspy coughs as he slowly began to take in air in normal breaths, pulse returning to normal. A few whispers circulated around the doctor, but he still thought them effects of the poison.

Checking to see if his vision was still gone, he opened his eyes only too see a middle-aged Na'vi wearing elaborate jewelry woman hanging over him, looking concerned. Next to her was another Na'vi woman in warrior's attire, also seemingly worried. He recognized the first one, at least her attire: she was probably a _Tsahik_**, **a spiritual leader of the Na'vi. But, what would a _Tsahik_be doing two feet away from him?

"What." was the only thing his brain could muster into words. One minute he was standing outside his link station, and the next was looking at two Na'vi, and from the looks of it, was inside one of the Hometrees of the Na'vi.

The warrior Na'vi turned to the _Tsahik,_ grinning widely.

"See, I told you it'd work!" she said in plain English, and in an American accent.

"_What."_ the doctor repeated, with emphasis.

The _Tsahik _simply placed a hand on Neely's forehead. It was then he became aware he was in his avatar body, dressed in his light brown clothes he used for hiking.

"_Kali'weya_ stung you," she said, "almost killed you."

"Actually, it did." said the other Na'vi woman, her pointed ears falling back. "But! Unipey saved you!"

"Huh?"

"Your human body was too damaged by the poison." the _Tsahik_ responded.

"So, she did to you what Sänume did to me back in the day."

Things were almost making sense now. He pointed a finger at the Na'vi warrior, eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Wait a minute. Did you say Sänume? Are you..."

The Na'vi woman gave a small salute. "Able Ryder, at your service."

Ryder pointed over to the _Tsahik_. "And this is Unipey. She's not much for introductions, though. I kind of had to talk her into doing the soul transfer."

It was then that Neely realized he was in his avatar body, still wearing his dark tan shirt and shorts. He reached for his ears to make sure, and felt two pointed ends where he expected them to be. He then felt his tail twitching nervously, a bony extension of his spinal column.

"So...what happened? Why am I in my avat..." he began, but trailed off as he recalled Unipey's comment about the poison and Ryder mentioning "soul transfer".

"Oh God." he mumbled, cupping his hands and burying his face in them.

* * *

"I'm never going home." Neely said, now sitting on the side of the a rock at the base of the tree. His ears were flat, and he in the course of a few hours of panicked hysteria over his realization that his human body was dead, he had acquired the thousand-yard stare.

Ryder patted him in the back, reassuring him. "Hey, it's not so bad. Granted, I took the news a lot better than you did, but, different strokes."

"I can't go home like this." he continued, not having heard Ryder at all, "Hey guys! A funny thing happened to me back on Pandora!"

"Like I said, being a Na'vi isn't so bad. Besides, this has happened more than once, you know."

Well, everyone on Earth had heard the story of Jake Sully.

"Why did you save me?" he asked, prompting a confused look from Ryder.

"Um, we're nice people?"

"Yeah, no. Why'd you _really_ save me?"

"Well, one of our hunters saw you get stung when he was near your station. He then said that a few woodsprites landed on you."

"And Unipey took that as a sign."

"Hey, Eywa must have something planned for you, eh?"

Neely had had enough. He stood up and walked off into the brush, silently raging at his new life.

Dr. Bill Tabar, who had been visiting when the hunter came in with the poisoned human, strolled up next to Ryder and leaned in towards her.

"We should totally start a club. _The Involuntary Na'vi."_

Neely heard the wisecrack, walked back from the bushes, and punched Bill in the face.


	6. Cheating Life, Part 1

**January 2nd, 2193**

Vince Tomber was the administrator for Hell's Gate, the human capital of Pandora. It had been that way since 2190, and he'd seen a lot of things in his time, most of those things being plants. His successor had been the former CEO of the infamous RDA, and the position was passed on to him after he died. It was one of the most prestigious jobs a person could have.

He hated his job.

Superluminal communications had improved to the point where the UN could check up on Vince every week or so. Parker had been able to hide the severity of the situation from his superiors because he almost never talked to them, and lied when he did. Vince got drilled by diplomats and presidents if one the security personnel so much as looked at one of the natives the wrong way.

The UN hadn't chimed in for the past month.

Vince was glad to be free from the weekly yelling-at by the would-be drill instructors. He was busy enough as is, most of his time spent trying to manage the supply network of the bases spread throughout the planet. The term 'self-sustaining-colony' had come up a few times in the past, the UN not-so-subtly hinting that they were getting tired of the costs of constantly sending in the expensive ISV ships to supply the the bases.

He usually flipped off the blank wall after the holographic video conferences ended. What he hell was he supposed to do? Ask the grunts to put on face paint and hunt?

Between setting the schedules and letting the avatar team do their thing, he didn't have much to do around the base other than overseeing redesigns of the base.

"Karen, could you get me some coffee?" he said, looking at the outside of the metal city. It reminded him of home, just replace the jungle expanse with space and gray dust. His former life on one of Luna's colonies was terribly boring.

Without even turning, he stretched out an arm to grab the steaming from his underling as she walked in. He waved her off. He hadn't taken two sips before the loud, annoying buzzer on the face of his desk rang out, and the secretary from downstair's voice came through.

"_Mr. Tomber? The science team wants to speak with you."_

He sighed, at the cup down on the windowsill, and strolled over to his desk, pressing the response button. It was expected of him to cooperate with the science team at all times, especially the avatars. It didn't mean they had to run every little thing by him.

"You mean one of the science team. Who is it?"

"_No, it's the whole science team. They say it's very important."_

Vince cocked an eyebrow. The _whole_ science team?

"Um...what do they want?"

"_They won't tell me. They seem really excited though."_

"Fine. I'll be down there in a sec."

He clicked the button to end the conversation, and briskly walked out of his office, pushing the clear door with the PMC's logo outward.

His office was where Parker Selfridge's used to be, but since mining operations had halted since humanity discovered a way to make artificial Unobtanium, much of the base had been retrofitted to accommodate staff housing and lab facilities. They had moved all of the mining electronics out on his floor, essentially letting him have the entire office to himself, his assistant Karen excluded.

"I'm going out, Karen. No calls unless it's from my bosses." he explained, pressing the button for the bottom floor on the elevator panel.

"This better be good." he grumbled as he stepped inside.

* * *

Good? Maybe. Weird? Undeniably.

A good chunk of the scientists had summoned the administrator to the main avatar compound, telling him they'd explain there, and because it was the highest-security building in the whole base. Nobody below Level 5 clearance could even get near it.

When he did, the geneticist asked him a rhetorical question.

"Vince, how much would you say it costs to make an avatar?"

"It's like four hundred mil, isn't it?"

"And it gets used, what, six to ten years before a driver heads home? It's a horrible waste."

Vince snorted. He didn't really care. The avatars, as creepy-looking as they were, were the only thing keeping the natives from knocking down their doors again. It had taken them _this_ long just to convince some of the natives to let their children attend the schools at the outskirts of the base, using the late Dr. Augustine's model.

"So? The PMC foots the cost anyway. What's your point?" he said, crossing his arms.

"The point is, Vince, that avatars are miracles of modern science and yet we toss them away like candy wrappers when we're done. Not only that, but avatars are very expensive to maintain and put huge psychological stress on its driver. What if..."

He trailed off and looked to the scientist standing next to him, who gave a nod.

"What if I told you we think we've found a way to transfer a human's mind into an avatar? Permanently?"

Vince just raised his eyebrows in surprise. There were documented cases of this happening, and it happened in one of two ways. The first was from the help of the natives, and every time one of the science team had asked them how they did, the Na'vi would either change the subject or tell them they didn't understand Eywa.

The only other instance of full consciousness transfer was the odd tale of Dr. Bill Tabar, who had somehow tripped into his linkup machine while in avatar form and fried his human brain. Even as his avatar reached its mid-fifties, he still didn't like talking about the incident, but even had no idea why he hadn't died outright.

"We...we finally managed to get Bill talking about his accident all those years ago. The vital clue was that he remembered his queue-"

"His what?"

"Those pink nerve tendrils at the end of his ponytail. Anyway, his queue somehow wrapped itself around the main psionic projector component, and we've been looking into that for about a year."

They had been doing this all behind his back. _Great._ The scientist scratched his head.

"By all odds, Bill should have died right then and there. But he didn't, so we started looking into a way to refine the method, to make it safe."

Vince clicked his jaw shut. "And?"

"We're technically done. The only problem we have left to address is how to preserve the human brain so the driver's mind can be installed back into it whenever they're done."

"_These nerds have been playing God behind my back.",_ he thought. "So if the driver makes the switch now, it's permanent?"

"From what we've seen in simulations, yeah."

"Does Bill know about this? Does _anyone_ know about this?"

"Just us, you, and the walls." the scientist replied.

The sad truth of the matter was that the scientist was right. Avatars were expensive. After a scientist went home to the Solar System, his or her empty avatar body was then promptly dissected and its organs shelved for future study. All for a few years of research and interacting with the natives.

"So why did you drag me her to tell me this?"

"You're the only one with an avatar who isn't in the loop, so we'd figured we should tell you."

Vince_ did_ have an avatar, with the idea that the leader of the humans on Pandora should also interact with the natives, and understand them to avoid any mishaps. He never used it, and pulled all the strings he could to get the UN to not bring up the subject during their meetings. Nobody could convince him to step outside the relative safety of Hell's Gate. It was suicide!

"I can't exactly keep this sort of thing from the PMC, _or_ the UN." he explained.

"Don't have to. We only kept it from you this long because we weren't sure how you'd react. Next time they call you up, bring us into the meeting too." the scientist replied, giving Vince a forced smile.

"Until then," piped one of the avatar drivers, "could you please keep it a secret?"

Vince rolled his eyes, and sighed. He felt kind of insulted that he seemed the type to gossip. "Fine. But the next time you start researching something like this, you _tell me_!" and with that, stormed out of the AVTR compound.

"Can I get out of this thing now!?" cried a voice in the back as Vince has exited the compound.

"Dr. Tabar, we still need your beta wave readouts if we're going to find a method to make the process two-way." the geneticist shot back. Bill had relented enough to allow the team to perform CAT scans on his avatar brain, with a bit of difficulty as his massive frame barely fit inside the machine.

He had lied about only the science team knowing. What was left of the original avatar team were also told, along with Jake Sully. Most of them were apathetic to the idea, although a few were a bit excited, especially Norm, on how it could improve the human's relations with the Na'vi.

There was only one question remaining: who would be the first volunteer?

* * *

**October 20th, 2193**

The UN hadn't sent any superliminal signals in almost four months. Earth's last transmission to Padnora was a one sentence message, ominously simple:

"_Stand by."_

"Oh, well _that's _helpful!" Vince screamed at the terminal interface, startling the communications specialist. Things were getting a little hectic around Pandora as the human colonies as the human colonies started asking why Earth had gone silent. Two ISVs had arrived since Earth stopped talking to them, and they were just as in the dark as Hell's Gate was.

The two ISVs continued to orbit the gas giant of Polyphemus, obeying standby order.

"Maybe it's time we sent something to them." suggested one of the other communications experts, peering at the screen over Vince's shoulder. FTL communications were expensive to all hell, and the administrator would never hear the end of it if he used them unless he had a very good reason.

He figured being abandoned by Earth was a very good reason.

"Alright. Send this to them: 'Hell's Gate awaiting orders. Please explain lack of response.' I really want to know what's going on over there."

"That's gonna cost us."

"Send it. This going on their tab anyway."

To Vince's surprise, they received a reply a week later, and it was even more disturbing than the last one.

_Red Flu._

"Okay, what does_ that_ mean?" he cried.

* * *

**October 3rd, 2199**

It was almost a full year until Hell's Gate was contacted again. Most of the human bases had already passed their panic stage and set in for the long haul. They had plenty of supplies until the next ISV would arrive, and until then, they'd just go about doing their normal business.

Vince was currently sitting in his office, conversing with a few familiar faces from the old Pandora Cooperation council of the UN, and a few new ones. Most looked very tired, or incredibly beaten down.

"What kind of deaths are we talking?"

The Red Flu was a supervirus. Having somehow escaped from a military laboratory in Ottawa, it spread with unbelievable speed. Newspapers called it the new Black Death, and in just under a year, North America's population was devastated, it's own crowded cities only helping the disease. A cure was eventually found and stopped the virus dead in its tracks, but the damage had been done. The Americas were nearly deserted, with only a few immune survivors.

"I don't think you get it, Vince. America is_ gone._" answered the former United States diplomat. He choked up a bit and excused himself from the conference. The UN was currently making it's superluminal call from the Luna's capital, having fled there during the first stages of the panic.

"The point is, Mr. Tomber, is that ISV traffic is going to be very low from here on out. Pandora _needs_ to be self-sustaining to survive."

"So what the hell am I supposed to do? I can't survive without raw materials for the plant!"

"Break down everything that isn't essential. Cannibalize the ISVs if you have to, just keep Pandora running!"

And with that, Vince found himself staring at a blank wall.

* * *

**August 23rd, 2199**

"You sure you want to do this? Last chance." the avatar of one of the scientists said, shining a light into Vince's eyes as he readied himself for the transfer. It'd been a busy five years for the administrator, most of it spent consolidating Hell's Gate into a sulf-sustaining colony. Half of the other bases on Pandora had already been stripped for supplies and broken down for materials for the stereolithography plant, helping expand the city. Most of the science team decided that if they were going to help, they'd be better off doing it in the stronger and toxic air-resistant bodies of their avatars.

Vince had been the last hold-out. In the last five years, most of the avatar drivers fresh off the ISVs were brought up to speed about the viral outbreak and the permanent transfer process, and most of them agreed to it almost immediately. Vince was the last hold-out, still reluctant to wake up every day in a body that wasn't truly his.

"Just...do it." he muttered.

He was laying down in one of the link beds AVTR compound, which had been jerry-rigged to serve as the the place where the transfers were made. The process was as thus: sedate the avatar, and surgically attach its nerve tendrils in a very specific pattern around the bulbous component in the back of the projector. The human would then make the jump, and the machine would be abruptly cut off, and the nerves of the avatar would be removed from the machine.

"See you on the other side, then." replied the avatar, which was the geneticist that had revealed the idea of permanent transfer to Vince in the first place. He closed the link bed, surrounding the administrator in total darkness. It didn't last long, however, as the machine booted up and started the transfer sequence. Soon after, he found himself hurdling through what one driver had once described as an "LSD rollercoaster".

Vince woke up to the faces of the avatar team, all happy that the administrator had made the right decision in their eyes.

He _really_ hated his job.


	7. Cheating Life, Part 2

**July 5th, 2200**

Vince had stayed in his avatar for all of a week before he decided he didn't like it, much to the disappointment of the science team. They reversed the process, and true to their word, it worked, putting the human back in his original body, along with a very nasty headache.

All but one of the human bases had evacuated to Hell's Gate now. As the refugees started pouring into the capital, the admin faced a very real problem: elbow room.

They'd expand outward, but that wouldn't sit well with the. It was decided that they'd convert the main tower of the base into a dormitory, and build upwards with any new materials they could salvage.

Materials they didn't have. Vince was holding another meeting in his office with the higher-ranked employees, trying to find a solution to their situation.

"We could break down the refinement plant. We've been using as a warehouse since we stopped mining, but..." the chief of stereolithography plant suggested.

"But what?" Vince shot back.

"These plans for expansion? Won't be nearly enough."

"What else can we break down?"

The chief adjusted his glasses, pulling up some specifications on his datapad. "Well, we could go looking for some of the old Hell Trucks. The natives busted up quite a few of them back in the day, and they're just sitting out there, rusting."

"You'll never find them. The forest would have covered it five times over by now." replied one of the avatars, sitting on the floor.

"Okay, geniuses, what other options do we have?" Vince growled. Only about fifty of the people at the base had avatars, and it wasn't like they had the time or the crew necessary to grow an avatar for everyone.

The rest of the employees started murmuring amongst themselves, and the administrator threw his hands up and walked off.

"Hey!" cried the same avatar, and pointed to a picture of the old excavator, the huge machine that was to collect Unobtanium from the strip mine years ago. "What about that? The plants from the mine still haven't grown back, so we could get there pretty easily."

Vince huffed. "And then what? We can't drag it back here. It's f'ing huge!"

"Actually," said one of the security officers, "we have a lot of surplus munitions in the armory."

"So, what are you suggesting? We blow the thing sky-high and collect the scrap?"

The officer shrugged. "We still have two working Hell Trucks in the garage. We could deliver enough explosives the bring it down in a day or two."

"You know what? Do it." Vince answered, and then pointed his finger to the avatar. "And you. Get all your other friends and tell the natives that we're going to be using our trucks to bring back the metal from the excavator, in case they get any funny ideas."

"So, when should we start?"

"Uh, as soon as you get out of my office?" He clapped his hands twice. "Meeting adjourned, let's get the ball rolling."

* * *

Jake Sully thought he'd seen it all. He'd betrayed his own race, become an entirely different species, tamed a flying killing machine, started a family, and even found it in his heart to forgive humanity and let them re-colonize Pandora.

Of course, he was almost letting them stay out of pity, as Earth had been hit hard by a viral outbreak. Jake had bluffed the RDA when they left, telling them that if humanity returned, they'd face a disease specifically engineered by Pandora to kill them. Humanity called his bluff, only to get sucker-punched by a virus of their own making.

Now, even in his old age, he still couldn't believe what he was about to do. In his hands he held the detonation box for the tons of explosives that had been installed inside the excavator for demolition.

"Mr. Sully, you there?" Vince said to the Olo'eyktan, snapping his fingers. Half the base had turned out for the party, and more than a few members of the clan had gathered on the outside of the strip mine to see the destruction of the huge excavator. A lot of the older members of the clan were just as anxious to see its destruction as the younger members, as many of them had attacked the Hell Truck fleet as it left the base of the mine, all those years ago.

"Oh. Yes, I'm here." he blurted, his ears twitching in reflex.

"Want to do us the honors? There's three safety switches, and then you gotta press the-"

"I got it, I got it." he replied, waving his hand at the tiny human.

As Jake fumbled with the device, one of the security team, one Pvt. Leinhardt, was sitting on a log behind them, trying to get a good view of the fireworks about to happen. It took him a second to realize that one of the locals was sitting on the same log next to him.

"Uh, hi." the private said, extending an arm for a handshake. All the grunts that had arrived at Pandora were usually given a quick run-by on Na'vi culture, but most of them never paid attention. The Na'vi just gave the soldier a strange look in response.

"Hello." he replied in accented English.

The private hadn't expected a response.

"So...why are you here?"

The native's ears went back, and his eyes narrowed.

"Why must you Sky People always ask such stupid questions?"

"Sorry, man. Just...trying to be friendly."

The Na'vi pouted.

"Uh, let's start over. I'm Ned Leinhardt. What's your name?"

"Tsu'tey." he answered nonchalantly, his eyes fixated on the excavator in the distance.

Another round of silence. _God, this is awkward, _he thought. He decided to try and start a conversation one last time, as Jake was trying to figure out the detonator. Vince realized he hadn't punched in the authorization code, and was trying to remember it.

"I've heard that name before. He...was a warrior, right?"

The native turned toward him, looking down on the tiny human in contempt. "A great warrior. Greater than any of _yours._"

"Well, yeah. We're like six feet tall on average, dude. One of your _children_ could beat us up."

This prompted an amused chuckle from the native, his long pointed canines that appeared from his smile gave the soldier all the more reason to try and stay on friendly terms.

"Alright everyone! The code is punched in!" cried Vince as he handed the detonator back to Jake. "You might want to cover your ears!"

The private complied. Jake yelled something in Na'vi, and the rest of the clan members present laid their hands over their pointed ears.

"Mr. Sully, would you do us the honor?"

Jake flipped the third safety switch, and looked to Neytiri, standing at his side. She gave an approving nod, and with that he pressed the large red button.

_Boom._

A small explosion occurred at the base of the machine, but it wasn't the earth-shattering explosion they'd all been expecting.

"Humph. That is what I came all this way for?" Tsu'tey complained in English to the private, removing his hands from his ears, "I thought th-"

_BOOM._

Tsu'tey recoiled from the loudness of the explosion, cringing. Humans and Na'vi alike ducked reflexively as the rest of the explosives began to make their way throughout the excavator, huge orange fireballs erupting from the machine.

"Yeah!" Jake cried, doing a fist-pump. The humans simply looked on, awetruck, and many of the older Na'vi were cheering as the huge piece of mining equipment began to shudder under its weakened structure. The massive balls of flame continued to make their way towards the gigantic bucket wheel at the end, stopping just short of the massive sawblade-like appendage.

With a groan, the bucket wheel divorced itself from the rest of the machine, ripping apart the ruined steel structure as it tumbled down to the ground, hitting the ground with a tremendous _thud._ It created a minor earthquake, causing several of the humans to stumble. A few late explosives continued to ravage the excavator, causing even more damage.

As one, final, particularly violent explosion occurred at the base of the machine, it began to lean. In no time at all, the machine was in a free-fall, most of its massive superstructure falling apart before it hit the ground. It was like watching a slain titan fall to the ground, and just as terrible and beautiful to behold, especially the part where it the ground and send several of the people present to their feet.

The dust it kicked up alone was incredible, obscuring the destroyed excavator behind a wall of debris.

Vince turned to the humans present. "And that's how it's _done_!"

* * *

There was a party at the Hometree, and everyone was invited. Including, for the first time, humans.

Leinhardt felt a little out of place in the wooden interior of the massive tree, opting not to celebrate and dance with the rest. That, and his bulky ceramic armor prevented any real fluid movement. As he stared at the fire the natives were dancing around, he wondered if he should have just gone to the party at Hell's Gate. At least they had good music.

A few of the Na'vi children poked at his armor, while he ignored them. Their mothers came in and shooed them off, leaving the private to himself. He'd only come because one of the avatars he was friends with talked him into it, saying it'd be a great cultural experience. One of the avatars that had been celebrating walked up to Ned, looking a bit disappointed.

"What's up? It's not every day the Na'vi invite humans into the _Kelutral._"

"I don't know. I just feel...out of my element?"

The avatar shrugged, and went back to dancing with the Omaticaya. It was then that Ned realized someone had sat down next to him. It was another avatar, but a very aged one.

"Gotta admit. Those fireworks was pretty cool." he said in English, smiling.

"Woah, you speak English too?" Leinhardt replied.

"Yeah, well, it's my native tongue."

The native extended an arm down to Ned. The private shook the avatar's hand, thankful he had his armor on to prevent the avatar from accidentally crushing his fingers. "I'm Norm Spellman."

"Oh, um, hi."

Norm chuckled. "You seem kind of lonely, sitting out here. You okay?"

"Well, my friend kind of talked me into coming here. To be honest I'd rather be rocking out to some guy wailing on a guitar back at Hell's Gare right now."

"Hey, I don't blame you. I was really into that old thrash metal when I was a teenager." Norm said, and played air guitar while bopping his head to an invisible beat.

"_I think Norm made a new friend." _Neytiri said to Jake, pointing at towards the private and the avatar as they both pretended to belt out rad guitar solos.

* * *

There wasn't a party at Hell's Gate. It was better described a hasty mobilization, as the various engineers and civilians around the base rushed to the stereolithography planet, getting it ready for the sheer amount of materials ready to pour in in the next few weeks.

"Man, that was _awesome." _said one of the soldiers as he got into his AMP suit.

"Shame we can't do it again." replied another, grabbing an assault rifle and exopack from the wall. They'd be busy escorting back to two Hell Trucks from the site for the next couple of weeks, but at least they'd have something to do.

It took a month for the humans to completely wipe out the debris created by the monstrous machine, but after they had processed it and broken it down, they had more than enough metal to construct all the essentials they'd need for a self-sustaining colony. Vince never used his avatar again, as he was too wierded out by the experience. He resigned from his administrator position, citing the fact that they weren't going to hear from Earth in a very long time.

At least, that was until they got another superluminal transmission, sent from Mars, of all places. It read: _ISV sent. Expect arrival in six years._

Vince response was as thus: _About goddamn time._

His fingers hovered above the keyboard as he was about to send his reply, but a sly smile creeped across his face as he added three more words.

_also, The Game._


	8. You Get What You Paid For

_I don't put in Author's Notes often, but I just wanted to give a big "thank you!" to everyone who has reviewed so far. Every one means a lot to me! Also, eat your veggies._

_Or I will find you.

* * *

_**November 11th, 2224**

Jay Reynolds slid his plate down the cafeteria line, eying the contents behind the sneeze guard. There wasn't much to choose from; you'd have fruits grown from the garden outside, maybe hexapede burgers if one of the guards got a lucky shot.

Hell's Gate had been operating more or less on its own for the last twenty years, and only three ISVs had arrived since the turn of the century. It's vast metal expanse dominated the jungle around it, its gray skyscrapers serving as landmarks that could be seen for miles around.

Jay was born on Pandora, the result of two lonely security guards who realized that they weren't going home. In fact, he was the _first_ person born on Pandora, as the PMC borrowed the strict "no fraternization" policy from its predecessor, the RDA. That kind of fell apart when Hell's Gate got the message that half of Earth was basically kaput.

Life in the colony wasn't so bad, though. It was boring as sin, and most of his time was spent repairing things around the base that had broken down, but hey, it was home. The natives didn't bother them either, as they'd salvaged all the mining equipment and broken it down years ago. The avatars still interacted with the natives to keep them happy.

Jay settled on the last slab of hexapede meat and the end of the line and plopped it onto his plate, pulling his tray away from the line and finding a seat to eat at.

The only available seats nearby was near the window. Jay shrugged, and walked over, taking his seat next to the glass outlook. As he sat down, he could faintly hear the low whirr of a couple of Samsons, a few that the base didn't break down for parts or brought by the ISVs. Jay brought up the burger to his face, ready to dig in.

"Hey, Junior. How's it going?" said a voice behind him. Jay turned around, still holding his meal. It was Phil, second human born on Pandora, by three days.

"Oh, hey." replied Jay, turning back and taking a bit out of his burger. He could see why the natives hunted the deer-like animal, shit was _delcious._

Phil took the seat next to him, sliding his tray next to his.

"You heard about one of ISVs coming hear pretty soon, huh?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, they apparently have something really important on board." Jay remembered the last two times the starships would arrive; the whole base would gather outside to see one of the shuttles land, carrying refugees from the dying Earth. Military surplus equipment would follow, which was usually shoved in one of the warehouses or put through the stereolithography plant.

An alarm rang out through the base, the emergency lights bathing the entire cafeteria in red as the members of Hell's Gate started fumbling for their emergency rebreathers, thinking there was a atmospheric breach. After a few seconds, a voice echoed over the intercom while the klaxons still whined.

"Attention everyone! There is not a containment breach!" it explained, and the emergency lights cut off a few moments later.

"Sorry guys; a Sturmbeest hit one against one of the walls and dented it a bit."

A wave of annoyed groans and sighs washed over the cafeteria as the colonists resumed eating their lunch.

Phil shook his head. "Friggin' hate those things."

Jay chuckled. "Well, you gotta understand. The Sturmbeest is a profoundly stupid animal. Even the Na'vi think so. Why you think they use 'em as cattle?"

Phil picked up the purple fruit he had on his plate, taking a huge chunk out of it in one crunch. "Well," he said, mouth full, "I mean, at least a Hammerhead knows when to stop, and the banshees stopped poking their noses around here years ago."

He was right; for some strange reason, the wildlife had stopped attacking Hell's Gate en masse some time ago. One of the science team speculated that Eywa, a sort of hive mind for the entire planet, deemed Hell's Gate like a benign tumor, leaving the humans alone if they left the rest of the forest alone.

"You know what I hate? Thanators. Those things are_ evil._" said Jay, pointing his finger to the table to emphasis _evil_.

"Yeah they are." said one of the Hell's Gate members sitting opposite to them, one of the guards sent from the last ISV.

Phil grinned. "I love how the natives treat it. 'Oh, to avoid viperwolves, you do this. If you want to avoid a Leo, you do this. Oh, a Thanator's after you? Nope, you're pretty screwed.' It's hilarious."

"_Attention Extrasolar Colony 01."_

Everyone in the cafeteria whipped their heads around towards the intercom. Nobody ever called Hell's Gate by its official name anymore, not since...

"_This is Captain Reeves of the ISV Columbia. We are currently...an estimated three days until we reach orbit around Pandora."_

The intercom went deathly silent, and so did the cafeteria. It took a few moments for the starship's hail to sink in as the humans begin excitedly talking amongst themselves. The voice that had apologized for the false alarm crackled over the PA system.

"That was the ISV Captain. They're a little early, people, I know. Everyone knows what to do!" and with that, everyone, Jay included, scrambled to prepare for the arrival of the starship.

At that moment, millions of miles away, Captain Reeves stared at the computer screen which counted down their time until arrival. One of the crew members floated up next to the captain, his brow furrowed.

"Don't you think we should have told them about the, uh, package?" he said, and tapped on one of the control panels to get a readout of the star they were approaching.

"It's classified."

"Until three days from now." the crew member replied, chuckling. He typed in a few words on a nearby keyboard and the readouts for their classified cargo came up, with a holographic display of an avatar. "Let's hope the natives are willing to donate a few DNA samples."

* * *

"He's been in there since yesterday." Phil said, staring at the science lab from the cafeteria interior. The ISV, as they had said, had arrived three days after their announcement and sent two shuttles down, carrying new personnel and equipment.

The captain of the ISV also went down with one of the shuttles, and demanded he speak with the avatar team. They sent out a signal to any of the avatars living in the general area, and within a few hours a few banshees appeared over the base, landing near the runway. After several of the avatars showed up, they all went inside the science lab, the captain leading the way.

"Bad news, maybe?" suggested Jay. He knew growing up that Earth was his homeworld, albeit one that wasn't a very pleasant place to live, and had been ravaged by a extremely contagious disease a few decades ago. Maybe there was another outbreak?

"Whatever it is, he's sure taking his sweet time."

Jay nodded, and Phil cocked an eyebrow.

"Don't you find it weird, though." he said, turning to Jay, "that they didn't bring _any_ avatar drivers with them? I mean, last time they had ten with them."

"Maybe they ran out of money to make 'em?" Jay replied, returning to his lunch.

Phil didn't say anything, and returned to staring at the science lab. They'd tried asking old administrator of the base, Vince, if he knew anything, and he just shrugged and told them the science team never told him anything the first place; why would they start now?

"Guys!" cried a voice from the entrance of the cafeteria. It was one of the security team, and he was panting heavily.

He took a few steps forward, gasping for air as he took off his exopack. "Guys...the shuttles landed again. You're gonna want to see this!" he said, and then slipped his exopack back on and ran out of the cafeteria.

"I got nothing better to do." Phil muttered as he stood up from the table and made his way toward the exit, Jay following.

The shuttles were sitting in the massive runway of Hell's Gate, ramps deployed. What the crew from the ISV were unloading proved _very_ interesting for the crowd gathered outside.

They were pushing off empty avatar tanks, by the dozen. Jay had seen pictures of them before, from an old book about the RDA and the AVTR program. Following that tanks were large containers with the biohazard symbol slapped on the side, pushed off by a few of the AMP suit pilots that had come with the ISV.

"Well, that just raises more questions." said Phil, arms crossed. He waved at one of the AMP suit pilots, trying to get her attention. "Hey! What's all this stuff for?"

The pilot ignored him, concentrating on her task of gently pushing off the glass tanks onto the tarmac.

"It's for us." said a voice behind them. The crowd turned to see one of the avatars, Dr. Mike, walking from the direction of the science lab, smiling. He stopped just short of the crowd, looking down on the humans. "It's for all of us."

Several 'huh?'s and 'what?'s made there way throughout the crowd.

"Avatars cost a lot of money to make," he continued, "used to cost almost half a billion. Some guys back figured out a way to cut that cost by a factor of 100."

"Cheap avatars?" Jay said, tilting his head.

"Mhm. Those tanks? They'll be for growing the avatars on-base. It'll take a while, but the plan is to have at least half the base equipped with avatars for base-building in ten years."

"Why? We're doing just fine!"

Dr. Mike leaned towards the humans. "Colonists. There's a _huge _colonization drive back on Earth. Most of them are moving to Mars or Venus, but there's a few headed here."

Jake frowned. "How much is 'a few'?"

The avatar's ears went back and he broke out a nervous smile. "About ten thousand?"

* * *

There were problems with the new, cheaper avatars.

Problem #1: Due to the growth accelerates used, the avatars would fail to develop properly four times out of five. That was the reason they had brought so many tanks.

Problem #2: Apparently, these avatars weren't quite as...sophisticated. When a driver linked up to the new avatars, their human brain would ossify, that is, turn to bone tissue. The transfer was permanent.

Obviously, this didn't sit well with many of the Hell's Gate personnel who rather liked being human. So, they settled who'd go first in the most reasonable way possible.

They played the lottery.

They all wrote their names down on a piece of paper and placed it into a box, and several names would be taken out to determine who'd have their avatars grown and used first. Jay's name was the first taken out, and he defaulted into the most spectacular facepalm he could muster.

"I'm going to look like a goddamn blue cat." he groaned.

* * *

"You're sure taking this well." said one of grunts from behind the glass wall to the medical room. A few of Jay's friends were allowed inside the AVTR compound, as a sort-of sending off. As Jay had "volunteered" to undergo the process, he couldn't help but feel like some otherwordly force wanted him to be miserable.

"You know what? I don't care anymore." he replied as one of the science team hooked up and attached a long metal cord to his head, and then another. And another. Pretty soon, it looked like an octopus was sitting in his air, trying to eat his skull.

He looked over to see them doing the same with his avatar, which was laying in the adjacent medical room. It had taken only three years to grow it, and three years pass by quickly when you know you're technically going to die. One of the AVTR team came over the intercom.

"_Is the avatar hooked up? Let's see, node three and four look good...yeah. I think we're ready. You ready, Jay?"_

"As I'll ever be."

"_Right. Starting transfer in three. Two. One."_

Jay had always heard about the transfer of the human mind to an avatar's, and what it was like. It was usually described a bright tunnel of colors, beautiful and thrilling. All Jay got was a horrible, painful shock that ran through nervous system and an explosion to white.

He woke up to see an elderly avatar shining a light into his eyes, surrounded by several human which were jotting down notes as he regained consciousness. Even though he was half-delirious, he could make out the words 'Dr. Neely' on the name tag of the avatar.

"Welcome to The Club." said Dr. Neely, smiling.


End file.
